🔥They're enemies in the workplace...until she discovers the only place he likes losing control is in her 🔞??

1: Two truths and a lie

  Two truths and one lie.

I gave my hot boss a blowjob.

I’m a stripper when I’m not working as a secretary.

My boss is an irritating, self-centred narcissistic dickhead that no one wants to work with.

Oh wait, I forgot to add the lie.

My name is Hazel Montgomery, and I’ve worked with the insufferable billionaire heir Alan Wood for five years.

“Is it because his cock is small? I heard that’s why he has such a horrible attitude,” one of my coworkers whispered as I walked into the elevator.

“I heard so too,” another replied quickly, their voices low. “Why else would he be such a dick to everyone around him?”

I almost laughed. That was the lie. Because my boss might be a complete asshole, a smug prick with the kind of arrogance that makes you want to punch him in the face, but he is far from having a small cock. I know this because one time, I walked in on him jerking off in his office.

The two women went pale when they noticed me standing there, frozen in the corner of the elevator. One of them covered her mouth while the other gripped her folder like it was a shield.

“Wait… isn’t that his secretary?” one whispered, her eyes wide.

“Oh no, we’re screwed,” the other muttered, already panicking. “She’s going to tell him, and we’ll be out of here by the end of the day.”

I smirked and tilted my head. “Relax. You’ll be just fine, I’m quitting today anyway.”

Their mouths dropped open, but I turned back to the elevator doors, refusing to explain myself.

The truth was, the last five years had been absolute hell. Yes, the paycheck was good, but it wasn’t worth losing myself. Alan Wood had drained me. He treated me like his personal slave, barking orders, calling at all hours, sending me on pointless errands just because he could. He was smug, arrogant, cold, and infuriatingly good at reminding everyone that they were disposable. He fired people on whims. He made grown men cry in board meetings. He was the devil in a tailored Armani suit.

The elevator chimed, and the doors slid open, spilling me straight into his world.

Alan Wood’s office was sleek, cold, and intimidating. He stood behind his desk, sleeves rolled to his forearms, dark hair perfectly styled, sharp jawline cut like it was designed to ruin lives. His eyes flicked up at me, slow and assessing.

“Miss Mango,” he said in that smooth, commanding voice. He set a file on his desk and gestured lazily. “A list of things to handle before lunch.”

Of course. The great Alan Wood. He didn’t even bother looking at me while shoving more work my way. No one ever stood up to him. He owned their futures with a single word.

But not mine anymore.

I tossed the folder onto his desk so hard the papers scattered. His head snapped up.

“I quit,” I said, my voice sharp and final.

For once, Alan Wood looked stunned. And somehow, even like that, he was still the hottest man alive.

“Are you sick?” Alan’s voice cut through the silence.

I met his eyes, and for the first time in five years, I didn’t look away. “No. I’m finally awake.”

His brow furrowed, a rare crack in his perfect mask. I pressed on before he could dismiss me.

“You’ve made my life hell, Alan,” I spat, my hands trembling but steady enough to shove against his desk. “Five years of being at your beck and call. Five years of picking up your dry cleaning, arranging your petty dinners, fielding your tantrums like some glorified babysitter. Do you know how many birthdays I’ve missed? How many friends I’ve lost? I haven’t had a single moment to breathe because you treat people like they’re disposable toys. You don’t care about anyone but yourself.”

His expression hardened. He stood, towering over me. “You can’t quit, Hazel.”

My stomach twisted. That was the first time he’d ever used my name. “Watch me.”

I turned toward the door, only to feel his hand clamp around my wrist.

“You don’t get to walk away from me,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. He yanked me back, pinning me to the wall in one swift movement. His body caged mine in, heat radiating off him.

“Let me go,” I hissed.

“Not until you understand that people don’t just walk away from Alan Wood,” he said coldly.

I laughed bitterly. “You’re a controlling, arrogant bastard who thinks the world revolves around him. And the sad part? It probably does but I’m not going to be part of that bullshit anymore.”

Something flickered in his eyes. His jaw clenched. Then he released me.

I shoved past him, heart pounding, and didn’t look back.

Outside, the city lights blurred as I flagged down a taxi. I gave the driver the address. Not home. The bar.

The neon glow welcomed me like an old friend. Music thumped through the walls as I headed to the back room.

“Well, someone’s moody today,” my bar boss, Maddox, smirked.

I peeled off my blouse and skirt, trading them for glitter, leather, and lace. The mirror reflected someone else entirely. Not Hazel Montgomery, secretary. This was Hazel, the woman who held power in the curve of her body and the confidence in her stare.

I started this three years ago because it was the only place I felt in control. Here, men paid to worship me. They didn’t own me. Not like him.

When I stepped onto the stage, the lights swallowed me. I danced until my muscles burned and my thoughts went quiet.

After my set, Maddox met me backstage. “Good work tonight,” he said, then hesitated. “But, uh, there’s something else.”

I arched a brow. “What now?”

“Someone made a request for you.”

I froze. “What?”

“A private show.”

I crossed my arms. “You know I don’t do that, no sex, no private anything.”

“This one’s different,” he insisted. “It’s a special client. He offered fifty thousand dollars.”

My jaw dropped. “Fifty thousand?”

“Only you,” Maddox shrugged. “I checked. He’s clean.”

Fifty thousand dollars could buy freedom. And I’d quit today.

“Fine,” I said finally. “But this is a one-time thing.”

“Good girl.” Maddox winked and pointed toward the VIP hall.

I pushed open the door, heels clicking against the polished floor. The room was dim. A man stood with his back to me, shirt discarded, muscles outlined under the low light.

“Hello?” I said softly.

He turned, and my stomach dropped.

Alan. Fucking. Wood.

I stumbled back, the words slipping out under my breath.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

2: Everyone has a price

  Alan pov

Hazel Mango or whatever her last name is, can’t quit.

It’s not because of her curves, though I notice them every damn day.

The way her skirt clings when she bends, the way she ties her hair up so tight it makes me wonder what it would look like loose. She’s the kind of woman you don’t forget when she leaves a room. But that isn’t why I can’t let her go.

It’s because no one works like she does. I fired ten secretaries in one day once. None of them could keep up. Hazel knew everything. She memorised my schedule, smoothed over clients when I pissed them off, had things done before I even asked. She’s the only one who could survive me.

And now she thinks she can walk out.

The door opened. I straightened, ready to snap, ready to tell her I knew she’d come back to her senses.

But it wasn’t Hazel. It was Kade Dalton.

He strolled in like he owned the place, smirk on his face, hands in his pockets.

“Yo,” he said. “Who messed with you this time?”

I leaned back in my chair and clenched my jaw. “Hazel quit.”

Kade whistled low and tilted his head. “Hazel? The one with the really nice ass?”

I slammed my palm on the desk and stood. “Don’t fucking talk about her like that.”

He held up his hands. “Relax. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

I raked a hand through my hair, pacing the room. My chest felt tight. “Five years she’s been here. She just threw it all in my face. Called me controlling, arrogant, selfish. Like I don’t...” I cut myself off, grinding my teeth.

Kade watched me with raised brows. “She’s not wrong though.”

I stopped and glared at him. “Shut up, Kade.”

He shrugged and leaned against the wall. “I’m just saying, man. You scare the shit out of everyone. You’re hard to deal with. Hazel lasted longer than anyone. Can’t blame her for snapping.”

I slammed the chair back under my desk, the wheels screeching. “You think I can’t blame her? She doesn’t get to quit me. People don’t quit me and it doesn't fucking help that my father already..ugh..” I trailed off swiping everything off my desk with one hand.

Kade gave me that look, half amused, half serious. “And there it is. The famous Alan Wood temper.”

I picked up the pen on my desk and threw it across the room. It hit the wall with a sharp crack. My hands shook, my breath short. I wanted to break something more.

Kade pushed off the wall and walked closer. He clapped a hand on my shoulder. “You’ve got too much fire in you, man. It eats you up.”

“Don’t start,” I warned.

He grinned. “I know what you need.”

I narrowed my eyes. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You need to get laid,” he said simply.

I barked a laugh, humourless. “What the fuck, Kade?”

He tilted his head. “When’s the last time you got off? And don’t say jerking off in your office, because that doesn’t count.”

I stared at him, rage boiling in my chest.

He smirked. “Exactly. It’s been too long. No wonder you’re wound up tight as a drum. Hazel throws a few insults and you’re about ready to explode.”

I stepped closer, my glare sharp enough to cut. “She called me a bastard, controlling and and arrogant. You think that’s nothing?”

Kade lifted his shoulders. “They’re not lies.”

I clenched my fists. “You’re pushing it.”

“Truth hurts,” he said easily.

I turned away, breathing hard, my knuckles white. Every word Hazel threw at me still echoed in my head.

Kade shoved his hands back in his pockets and walked to the door. “I know a place,” he said casually. “Somewhere you can let it out. Might even make you forget Hazel for a while.”

I spun back toward him, my jaw tight. “Oh I'm not going to forget her, I'm going to make her fucking pay she's going to regret fucking pointing her fucking fingers at me, I'll make her life hell, I'm make it miserable and I'll make her pay.”

Kade smirked, like he knew something I didn’t. “We’ll see.”

The car rolled up to the bar Kade wouldn’t shut up about. I stepped out, straightened my jacket, and felt eyes dart away the second I looked around. The bouncer rushed to open the door. The hostess nearly dropped her clipboard when she saw me. I didn’t say a word, just gave her a look that made her stammer as she led us inside.

Every head turned. Conversations dipped. That’s the effect I had everywhere. My name carried weight, but my presence carried more. People moved out of my way before I even reached them.

Kade nudged me with a grin. “Relax, man. You’re scaring them.”

“Good,” I muttered, my jaw tight.

The VIP section was dim, velvet-lined, and dripping with money. A server rushed over with a leather-bound catalog. I flicked through lazily, the pictures of masked women paraded like trophies. None of them caught my attention, until her.

Curves too perfect to ignore. Hips that begged for hands. Breasts full and round, straining against the glitter of her outfit. Even through the mask, I felt a pull. Something in the tilt of her chin, the way her body seemed alive in the still image.

“This one,” I said, tapping her photo.

The boss, a heavyset man with a cheap smile, hesitated. “Sir, she doesn’t do privates. She only dances. That’s her rule.”

I looked up slowly, fixing him with the stare that made grown men fold. “Everyone has a price.”

“She won’t break it,” he said, shaking his head.

“Fifty thousand.”

The room went silent. Kade let out a low whistle. The boss froze, his eyes wide.

“You heard me,” I said flatly. “Fifty thousand. For her.”

His lips twitched like he wanted to argue, but greed won. He nodded quickly, snapping at one of his men. “Prepare the room.”

I leaned back in the leather chair, loosening my tie. Kade sipped his drink with that damn smirk.

After a while, I found my way to the room they had prepared for me and soon enough, the door behind me opened. Heels clicked softly against the floor. I heard her before I saw her, a voice low and unncertain.

And then it hit me.

I turned my head slowly, my pulse hammering in my ears.

  Am I hearing things… or did my secretary just walk into the room?